


Though your sins be as scarlet

by Annfan



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Angst, Dark Seth, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingering, Gun play, Knife Play, Older Man/Younger Woman, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, mexican honeymoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 10:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20289748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annfan/pseuds/Annfan
Summary: Seth is a terrible person. If he was a good man, and not a fucking bastard, he would have told Kate to get lost a long time ago.





	Though your sins be as scarlet

**Author's Note:**

> Still working on the next installment of “Heaven in hiding!” Had the idea for this fic though while working on it and decided to go ahead and publish this as a stand alone. 
> 
> Seth is kind of dark in this one, because let’s be real, season one Seth was not a good guy. 
> 
> Title from Isaiah 1:18, “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”

Seth knows he’s a terrible person. Knows he’s done terrible, awful things. When he closes his eyes he sometimes still sees those rangers he shot at the bank, or the guards at the Kansas prison. Sometimes his mind goes even farther back, to the first time he pulled a trigger and a person on the other end felt the result. He had only been nineteen, the victim even younger, a punk seventeen year old kid in the wrong place at the wrong time during a hold up gone sideways. 

Sometimes he sees their faces too clearly and he chases the memories with shots of something strong and cheap. It settles, sick and heavy in his stomach, and chases away the sick in his heart.

Even when he lies awake at night, and the booze doesn’t work, he still knows though, that he wouldn’t change a goddamn thing. He’d still kill those people, those innocent people, all over again. That’s what makes him truly sick. If it got him his money, his freedom, his brother, he’d pull that trigger a thousand times over and just keep drowning the memories in crappy tequila.

It’s not that Seth has zero sense of morals or empathy for anyone else. That would make him a psychopath and he isn’t a psychopath (not like he sometimes worries Richie is/was, but that’s another problem). No, Seth isn’t a psychopath. He doesn’t just care about himself. He cares about himself and exactly one other person, his brother.

The only guilt he feels is over how he screwed up things with Richie. Not over the bank robbing, or the killing, or any of the rest of it. And if he is truthfully, deeply, selfishly honest with himself he isn’t sorry he kidnapped Kate either. Because otherwise he’d be alone and right now she’s all he’s got. 

She takes care of him, wipes the sweat from his brow as he shakes through drug laced nightmares. There’s something so fucked up about it, her playing nurse to him when she should be putting a bullet between his eyes for all he’s done to her.

Kate is so pure, so innocent, and sometimes he hates her for it. Hates her because he never had a chance at innocence like that. Sometimes he wonders, if when he was a small child, before his mother left, it maybe he was good then. He doesn’t know, he can’t remember that far back, can’t remember ever not being sick and twisted.

Sometimes Seth feels something akin to guilt for fucking up Kate’s life, for being responsible for taking away a small part of that innocence. Other times, he wants to take it all away, be the one responsible for ruining her completely. But he knows, deep down, that it wouldn’t work. He could take away her innocence, but not her light. Kate Fuller suffered before he ever came into her life, guns blazing. She suffered, and she was still good, she would never become a monster like him.

Its afternoon, probably, Seth spent the last 24 hours so drugged out of his gourd he isn’t really sure. Kate is pissed, again. Maybe she’ll leave him this time, maybe he’ll let her. 

“We barely have any money for food Seth! You can’t keep doing this! I’m tired of eating convience store tacos every day.”

“No one said this was gonna be a luxury cruise sister,” Seth spits back. “And if I remember correctly you’re the one that decided to get on this sinking ship.”

“I didn’t decide a goddamn thing!” It’s rare to hear her swear, and there is much more venom behind it than any of Seth’s causal f-bombs. “I didn’t decide for you to kidnap my family or hold us hostage, or make us stay in that evil place! I had no one, that’s why I came with you. I had no one because of you. You’re the reason everyone I love is dead!” Her voice cracks, eyes watering.

“That’s right sweetheart. I am.”Leave, he thinks. C’mon, leave me just like Richard did, it’s what I deserve.

She doesn’t though, his cruel words just make her more angry, because damn if she isn’t a little pistol. “Fuck you, Seth.”

“I’m sure you’d like to,” He mutters half to himself. Because he’s seen her, in all these cramped motel rooms with no space to breathe, he’s seen her watching him. Seen the way her breath hitches just a little when he comes out of the shower, shirtless, the way her eyes follow his tattoo (that goddamn tattoo he got all because of a lie). It’s just a teenage crush, a fucked up, misplaced, Stockholm induced crush. But damned if he doesn’t want her back, want her in ways that her good little preachers-daughter mind can’t even imagine.

Kate’s eyes fire up at his words, at what he’s insinuating, and he barely has time to duck when she picks up the tv remote and hurls it towards his head. It crashes into the motel door, cracking and falling to the floor.

Seth looks up at her, jaw clenched, but she just stares back at him definitely, little bosom heaving with anger.

“Bad move princess,” he hisses, stalking across the room towards her.

She shrinks away, backing up against the wall, a hint of fear in her eyes.

Good, he thinks, you should be scared of me. Any normal person would be.

Seth can practically hear her heart beating under the too-thin white tank top she’s wearing. Her dainty gold cross swings just over her breasts, a lure to sin only to a man as perverse as he is.

He catches her wrists before she has time to dodge him, pushing them above her head and pinning them to the cracked wallpaper. She whimpers, and the sound goes straight south. He grits his teeth, tries to keep his cool, knows he should stop this.

“I’m not a good man, Kate. I’ve done things, bad things. You know what I’m capable of.” He pushes down on her, feels and sees her squirm, but she looks him dead in the eye.

“I’ve done bad things too Seth.”

He scoffs, “Yeah, French kissing in church? That’s gonna send you right to hell.”

She lowers her gaze finally, “I killed my Daddy Seth. He was gonna turn into one of those THINGS, but he hadn’t yet, and he couldn’t do it himself, so I killed him. Drove a steak right through his heart.”

Seth lets go of her wrists like they’re fire, steps back to analyze her face. “You never told me that.”

“You never asked.”

The answer was part sarcasm but she was right. He hadn’t asked. Fuck, he’s such a self absorbed son of a bitch.

He can’t do this right now, can’t think straight with Kate standing there, hair mussed and cheeks flushed, for all intents and purposes looking like he was fucking her up against the wall.

“I need a drink.” He turns away from her hurt and rejected expression.

“You can’t run away from everything Seth!” She calls as he steps outside, because of course she has to get the last word in. He slams the motel door behind him.

Seth goes to a dive bar a few blocks away, plays a couple games of cards with drunk British tourists and wins back enough money to buy some pre-packaged cinnamon rolls and mangos at the twenty four hour Mercado. He knows Kate loves mangos.

He half isn’t expecting her to be there when he gets back, whiskey sour and resigned to the fact that she’ll have wised up and finally ditched his sorry ass. Kate apparently isn’t too wise though, because she is still there, sleeping like angel in the bed closest to the bathroom.

Seth latches the door and crawls into his own bed after taking a rare swig of a water to calm the spinning in his head. He slips his revolver under his pillow, rests easier with his hand on the grip. He knows if anything came through that door, snake or man, and tried to touch Kate he’d blow them to hell. He thinks bitterly, if he really wanted to protect her he’d put the gun to his own head.

He closes his eyes and dreams he’s back in that temple, only this time he doesn’t go back for Kate and her father when Tanner tries to close the door. She finds him later, sharp teeth hidden behind little girl gums, and forces him to his knees. She rips into him, drinks him dry, and he lets her, coughing up bloody penance onto her baby-pink shirt.

In the morning she grins up at him with a genuine smile, a slight amount of cream cheese frosting on her nose. “Thanks,” she says, way more grateful to him for bringing her cinnamon roles than she has any right to be. Really, it’s the least he could do.

“We need to teach you how to defend yourself.” They’re sitting on the couch, finally in a motel suite with a kitchenette and a passable living room.

Seth grabs the remote from Kate, switches off the Spanish subtitled Audrey Hepburn movie she was watching.

“Hey!” She sputters indignantly, “I was watching that, give it back!”

He holds it out of her reach, arms much longer than hers. “Uh, uh, c’mon, up kiddo.” He hooks his other arm under hers, tugs her to her feet.

She stands reluctantly, crossing her arms. “I already know how to defend myself,” she huffs. “Didn’t you see me cut those those strippers in half with a chainsaw?”

“Sure sweetheart, and that was pretty badass and all, but you aren’t always gonna have a chainsaw.”

“Well, I know how to punch and kick too.”

“Really?” He squints skeptically at her short little legs and tiny wrists.

“Scott and I fought a lot growing up,”she shrugs.

“Ha!” Seth chuckles, “sweet little sister Christian was pretty rough and tumble, huh?”

Kate glares up at him. “He tried to steal the remote too.”

“Okay then, punch me.”

“What?” She blinks up at him. “Seriously Seth? Come on...”

“No, I’m serious. Punch. Me.” He orders.

“Okay.” She shrugs, balling up her little fist.

Wham. She gets him right in the upper abdomen, and he’s had much harder hits from much bigger men, but damn for her size it still makes him cough, eyes widening in surprise.

“Scott taught me that, a solar plexus punch.” She beams. “He was gonna be a black belt soon.”

Kate pauses, and Seth is about to give her a weak thumbs up when a positively devilish smile crosses her face. “He taught me this too...”

“Taught you what?” Seth barely finishes his sentence before her leg is kicking out, straight and practiced, ball of her foot catching up under his ribs and pushing, sending him flying backwards.

He catches himself with his hands before his ass hits the floor, ribs smarting. “Jesus Christ, okay karate kid.”

“See, told you.” Damn if she isn’t a smug little thing.

“What about a gun?” She says softly a few moments later, as he’s pouring himself a drink, even thought it’s only four-thirty.

“What about it?”

“What do you do if someone points a gun at you?”

He knows she’s remembering when he was the one with the gun, when he was the threat, slick words and a finger on the trigger. _I’ll put one in your pretty head before you even touch the grip sweetheart._

“Okay,” he sighs, pulls the revolver out of his waistband and empties all the shells on the dresser. “Here, point it at me.”

She does, without hesitation, puts the cold steel of it right up against his forehead. His breath hitches, he has to fight the urge to keep his eyes open, to focus and not just sink into it.

“Good,” he rasps. “Alright, what you have to do is go for the wrist. The first thing though is to get your head off the center line, away from the end of the barrel. That’s the only place the bullet comes out, so if you aren’t in front of that you can’t get shot.”

Seth demonstrates the move, dogging, pinning, and twisting the gun away, pointing it squarely at her belly.

Kate doesn’t flinch, just nods, brow wrinkled in concentration. She tries to replicate the move, but hesitates slightly on grabbing the top of the gun with her right hand, and he turns it back towards her. He pulls the trigger, hammer clicking onto an empty chapter.

“Bang, you’re dead. Try again.”

Kate narrows her eyes and does it again, this time with no hesitation. He hisses, his finger being bent back in the trigger guard as she snaps the gun away.

She puts the gun to his head again, backs him up until the back of his knees bump up against his bed. He falls back compliantly, edging up towards the head of the bed, watching for her next move. She crawls on top of him, straddles his lap slowly, returns the cold steel to its place right between his eyes. She pulls the trigger.

“Bang, you’re dead,” she echoes him, the room suddenly full with tension.

Seth almost wants to tell her to get up, to go get the shells and load them, to do it again, for real this time. He wonders if she would do it.

“What about knives?” Kate whispers suddenly, voice low and dangerous.

He blinks up at her. “What about them?” His voice is absolutely wrecked, much too low and gravely than a simple self defense lesson warrants.

Kate moves slowly, places the empty gun on the bedside table between their two beds, and retrieves the big hunting knife he stole for her. She slips it out of its leather case, and brings it up to his sternum, dragging it slowly up his chest. It snags on the cotton of his plain white t-shirt and he chokes.

“What do you do if someone has a knife?” Her voice is breathy too.

Seth doesn’t respond, can’t possibly form any coherent words. Kate drags the knife up farther, until he can feel the sharp ragged edge of metal against his throat.

He pushes back up against her, feels it nick the skin, a small drop of blood working free. “Do it,” he begs. “C’mon, do it Katie.”

“No,” she chokes out.

“Why not? I deserve it.”

She shakes her head, “I’m not letting you out that easy Gecko.”

He lets his head fall back against the headboard of the bed in defeat. She crawls off him, returns the knife to its sheath and wiggles up beside him, into the crook of his arm.

“Don’t you hate me?” He whispers into her hair.

“I forgive you,” she says simply.

“How, how could you forgive me? After everything I did to you, after everything I keep doing to you.”

“Forgiveness isn’t something that you do just once, Seth. You have to keep forgiving. Because the pain doesn’t stop, it will always be there. You have to choose every day to not hold that bitterness, because it won’t ever bring back what you lost.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” Seth says.

“I never said you did.” Kate cocks her head, so young, but wise beyond her years. “I don’t forgive you for you, I forgive you for me. Because I won’t hold hate in my heart, not for anyone.”

“You have every reason to hate me.”

“Maybe,” she sighs, sits down next to him on the bed. “But I’m too tired to hate. I’m just tired Seth. And I don’t want to be alone.” Her voice cracks a little, strength wavering, broken youth seeping through.

Seth wraps an arm around her. “Me too babygirl,” he says. “I’m tired too.”

She folds into him, tucking her face into the crook just above his collarbone. He lets out a shuddering breath, his body stiffens. They shouldn’t be doing this.

Kate tilts her head up and leans forward, slightly, hesitantly, and presses her lips to his. He groans, presses back firmer, feels her shiver.

“No,” he pulls away suddenly, pushes her off and swings his legs to the edge of the bed. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t want this Kate.”

“I do.” She says firmly, “Stop trying to fucking protect me Seth. You can’t. I’m tired of being good.”

“We shouldn’t,” he whispers, but his words float away, so that he isn’t sure he even really said them.

“Please,” she begs.

He turns, pinning her with his gaze. Now it’s her pressed up against the headboard,him looming above her. He threads a hand through her impossibly soft hair. 

“I’m not gonna be nice, Kate.” His fingers ghost over her throat like a warning, skimming down her shoulder and back to wrap around her wrist.

“I don’t want nice. I just want you.”

“Okay,” He hoists her up, pulls her on to his lap, and she wraps herself around him.

Seth finds a sweet spot right behind her ear, at the crux of her neck, suckles on it until he can feel her toes curl along the side of his thighs.

“Oh god,” she moans.

“That’s right sweetheart,” he mutters, hot and heavy. “Gonna get you religion.”

Seth moves to her lips, kisses her hard, forcing his tongue past her teeth. She welcomes the intrusion, responding eagerly. He wonders just how much practice she had in the back of that church.

He pulls away and Kate looks up at him doe eyed, lips swollen.

“Arms up,” he whispers gently and she complies, letting him lift her T-shirt above her head. He flicks off the clasp of her bra, slips that off too, and she jumps, shying away, big girl bravado suddenly gone.

“Hey.” Seth tips her chin up. “Look at me. Don’t be shy.”

Kate trembles just a little, but nods. He guides her down on the bed, takes in the sight of her, all splayed out underneath him, looking like an angel. She looks too good for Seth, too good for anything in this goddamn world.

He peels her jeans off, and then pauses, leaving her floral cotton panties on, not wanting her to get gun-shy by doing too much, too fast.

Seth crawls up her body, shrugging his own t-shirt off in the process. He runs one hand up her body, an expanse of soft, unblemished skin, smooth under his rough palm. Her tits are small, but perfect, pebbled under the cool air from the motel’s swamp cooler. He rolls one nipple between his thumb and index finger.

Kate jerks up, moans out his name. “Seth.”He swallows it with a kiss.

His other hand works down, lingers a moment at the elastic waistband of her panties. “You ever let someone touch you here before princess?”

She blushes, shakes her head. “No.”

“You gonna let me? I’m a bad man Katie. I’ve killed people with these hands.”

Kate doesn’t respond, just gasps, canting her hips up, pushing back on his hand.

Seth feels his lips curve up in a wry smile. “You like that though don’t you? You like that I’m a bad man.”

Seth sees the blush rise up in her cheeks as she ducks her head into the pillow. He underestimated the preacher’s daughter. He’d always heard that preacher’s kids were kinky, looks like that was right.

“You want me to fuck you with my fingers?” He asks, low and dangerous.

Kate’s blush deepens, maybe that was too dirty. But then he looks in her eyes, sees her pupils blown wide with lust.

“Answer me,” he mouths up against the side of her cheek.

“Yes,” she squeaks out.

He slips his fingers under her panties, slowly strokes up to her clit. Jesus, she’s wet. Kate bites her lower lip, grips the sheets in one of her small fists.

Seth pushes a finger into her and god she’s tight. He tries to let her adjust for a moment, but she’s already pushing down on to him, eagerly. He crooks his finger inside her, and she fucking moans, a sound that goes straight to his cock.

“Does that feel good? Can you take another?”

“Yeah,” she whimpers.

He follows good on that, pushing another fingers into her tight, hot, center. “You ever make yourself come? You ever touch yourself?”

She doesn’t answer, tries to hide her face again, but he grips her hair with his free hand, forces her to meet his gaze. “Eyes on me sweetheart. Answer the question, have you?”

“No, no.” She stutters, but her daddy had been right, she’s a goddamn terrible liar.

“Try again.” Seth presses his thumb down on her clit almost cruelly and she jerks.

“Once...a couple of times...with a pillow.” She looks like she wants to die of humiliation.

Seth chuckles, he can imagine it, chaste good little miss Kate riding a pillow and making Jesus cry when she thinks everyone else is asleep. “Nothing to be embarrassed of sweetheart. Did it feel good?”

“Yeah,” she mutters, cheeks still hot with shame.

“Good,” he croons. “I’m gonna make you feel real good too.

Seth fingers her to within an inch of her life, she writhes and he has to pin her hips down with one hand to keep them from flying off the mattress. Not to brag, but Seth has never had anything but rave reviews about his digital skills.

“Oh god, Seth. Please, please,” she begs, body tense.

“Shhh,” he murmurs. “I got you sweetheart, c’mon.”

Kate comes with a choked shout and falls back limp against the pillow. He slinks back, pulling her panties all the way off as he does. He then stands up, slipping out his own slacks and boxers, staring down at her looking absolutely debauched. Seth knows Jacob would be rolling in his grave if he had one.

Kate looks up at him, eyes wide, as her crawls up the bed. Her eyes get wider when she sees his cock, which is so goddamn hard it almost hurts, and she gasps a little. “I don’t think it’ll fit.”

“Well you sure know how to boost a guy’s ego Kate.” Seth winks, but it doesn’t make her laugh. “Hey, hey,” he runs his hand through her hair to calm her. “I’ll make it good for you. You trust me, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” Kate nods earnestly, and he feels a pang of guilt, because she shouldn’t trust him at all. If any other man tried to touch her the way he was touching her right now he’d knock them the fuck out.

He leans over, grabs a condom from his wallet on the bedside table and rolls it on. Thank fuck he always had a backup. He grabs her arms, pins both dainty wrists over her head with one of his monster hands. She seemed to like that earlier, when he had her up against the wall, and she likes it now, keening up, the tip of his cock bumping against the inner part of her thigh.

Seth eases into her slowly, but she still tenses, letting out a slow hiss of air.

“Breathe kid,” he instructs, letting go of her wrists to cup the back of her neck.

Kate complies, taking in a shaky breath, and he drives home, sending her arching back, arms scrambling up to wrap around his neck. God, she’s so tight and warm around him he thinks he might black out. He’s seeing goddamn spots. He grits his teeth, focuses on on her, on her breathing, on her face which is screwed up with half pleasure, half pain. He’s such a grade A bastard. To think he had the audacity to get on Richie’s case about kissing the girl, and now he’s popping her fucking cherry.

Seth stills, it takes every last ounce of willpower he has, but he doesn’t want to hurt her. He’s done that enough already.

“No, don’t stop,” Kate gasps unexpectedly. “More, give me more.”

She doesn’t have to ask twice, he puts his hands on either side of her head and thrusts, long languid strokes, and she wraps her legs around him, taking him deeper. God, she was always so ready to take everything he gave her, all the bullshit, all the excuses for why he was the way he was, and now this.

Kate doesn’t close her eyes, looks right back up at him bravely. “Feels good,” She says without any prompting. “Feel so full.”

“Yeah,” he grunts, hoping she is close, because he damn sure is. “You feel good to princess, real good.”

He reaches up into her hair again, grabs a fistful of it at the roots, not too hard, but just enough pressure to pull her head back. Enough pressure that she cries out and tips over the edge, pussy clamping down on him like a fucking vice.

“God.” He comes right behind her, with a shout. He said he was gonna give her religion, but it looks like she gave it to him.

Seth pulls out of her, rolls over and throws the condom in the trash bin. Kate lays next to him, panting, and he rubs her belly with the palm of his hand as she rides out the aftershocks.

They lay there for a moment, Seth on his side and her staring up at the ceiling, until she finally sits up, hair cascading down around her face. This is it, he thinks when she finally gets up. The good, Christian girl guilt is going to kick in, and she’s gonna realize how much Seth has taken from, gonna realize what a bastard he really is.

She doesn’t look at him, just snatches up her panties and scurries quickly to the bathroom and closes the door. He flops on his back, and lets out a groan. God, he really has fucked up this time.

He rolls over, pulls his boxers back on, and stares at that little black pouch on the table. It would be so easy to just go over and pick it up. He’s itching for a fix.

Seth hears the toilet flush, and the water in the sink run. The rusty door creams open and he hears Kate tip toe over to him slightly. He rolls over to face her, opens his mouth to say some sarcastic and biting thing like “don’t worry about it kid, it was a one time deal.” But he can’t get the words out of his mouth before she is sliding in next to him.

“Scoot over,” she says, “M’ tired.”

“You know you’ve got your own bed over there you can sleep in,” he says, but scoots over anyway.

“Don’t want to.” She says back. “Wanna sleep in your bed.”

“Okay,” he says, and pulls the covers up offer both of them. “Whatever you want princess.” He means it too.

Kate stays, some days he doesn’t know why but she does. Everything doesn’t get fixed overnight. They both still have nightmares, but now they hold each other through them. He still shoots up, but less frequently. Sometimes she holds the needle for him.

He buys bottles of cheap tequila and Kate does far too many shots for someone with her BMI. He holds her hair the next morning when she throws it back up.

He still misses Richie, misses him so much it hurts and he hates it. He remembers seeing something on tv once, about a wounded veteran with his leg blown clean off. It still hurt, the missing leg. Phantom pain. Richie was a part of him, and the space where he used to be aches.

Kate isn’t a replacement for Richie, no one could ever replace his brother. Kate’s more than just a stand in too, Seth could never reduce her to that.

Seth is a terrible person, if he was a good man, and not a fucking bastard, he would have told Kate to get lost a long time ago. He doubts she would listen though. And the fact is, Kate makes him a better man. Not a good one, but a better one. Seth Gecko is a little less of a fucking bastard with Kate Fuller around.


End file.
